


no children

by mercuryhatter



Series: up the road, around the bend [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Anal Sex, Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Goodbye Sex, Hurt No Comfort, Last Day On Earth, M/M, Rimming, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23617036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/pseuds/mercuryhatter
Summary: the last night on earth in 2014.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse Castiel/Endverse Dean Winchester
Series: up the road, around the bend [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705891
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	no children

After the meeting, Dean waited until the camp had quieted for the night before slipping into Cas’s cabin. Typically they had to work out these meetings in advance or Cas’s cabin would be full-- he liked to be surrounded by people, whether they were going to meditate or have sex or simply lie around in each other’s laps. Tonight, though, Dean knew without asking that it would be empty, and it was. Cas glanced up at him as he entered and waved him in, though Dean hadn’t knocked. 

“So is this really it?” Cas asked. He was lighting a cigarette at the long table in the corner of the room, hand-rolled, filled with who-knows-what, but his eyes tracked Dean as Dean sat on the bed to strip off his boots and belt. “Scale of one to ten, how sure are we that this is it.” 

“Ten,” Dean said heavily. “This is it.” 

“The big one,” Cas said admiringly, holding the cigarette loosely away to make a low whistle. “Well, shit.” 

“Yeah.” Dean watched Cas blow a smoke ring and sighed. “Cas, would you put that out and get over here?” 

“Yes, sir, fearless leader,” Cas said mockingly, but he dropped the cigarette on the ashtray and moved to stand before Dean. He looked down at Dean appraisingly. On a typical night he would decide what it was he wanted from Dean, or Dean would decide, and they would do it and then go to sleep in separate cabins. Transactional, simple, enough to hold them together without being enough to break them down. If they pretended to be one night stands who didn’t know each other’s last names, it was far easier to pretend that they did not know each other on a molecular level, that they were each the last people in the world that the other had. Tonight Dean was going to break that, their cardinal set of rules, and if he didn’t feel so glacially calm about what was going to happen to them tomorrow he would have been thrumming with trepidation. So when Cas made to shift Dean’s thighs apart and step between them, Dean stopped him with a hand on his chest. 

“Wait a second,” he said. Cas raised an eyebrow. Dean drew on that cold, cold calm inside him and kept going. “Cas, you know… you have to know we aren’t gonna make it out of this.” 

“Well, yeah,” Cas said. “That’s kind of what I meant by the big one.”

“Can we just be serious for a minute?” Dean snapped. He pushed Cas away far enough to stand up, unable to stand being pinned under his studiedly casual gaze for this. Cas crowded in on him, almost nose to nose. 

“No,” he said, with that sardonic little side-to-side head movement he reserved for being specifically angry with Dean. “I’m pretty fucking sure you don’t want me serious, Dean, so why don’t you just let me suck your dick and then we can have a nice little kiss goodbye and then we  _ quite literally _ will never have to worry about it again.” For a moment he looked genuinely furious-- any genuine emotion foreign and surprising on his face now-- but in a flash it was gone. Dean seized him by the shoulders, holding him fast even as Cas tried to squirm out of his grip. 

“Do you think I don’t know how hard this is? Do you think this is fucking easy for me? I get it, okay? We haven’t been okay in a long time and we’ve been taking it out on each other and it’s kept us going this far but I’ll be damned if we go out for good without one goddamned moment for us, all right?” 

“Be damned, then,” Cas spat without hesitation, finally breaking Dean’s grip and pacing away. “You can’t do this to me. I have to be fucking  _ functional _ for the executioner’s block tomorrow.” He laughed, high-pitched and bitter. “It’s the very least you can do, just let me be useful one more time, I only get to do it so often these days--” He broke off, sucking in a breath. 

“Cas, I’m sorry.” His voice ground like rocks in his throat. “I just have to say-” 

“If you say you love me I  _ will _ kill you.” Cas was turned away from him, gripping the edge of the table where his cigarette still smoldered quietly in the ashtray. He almost sounded like a soldier again, words steady like a vow but for the smallest tremor at the end. 

“Cas, please. You want to do one thing for me before we go out, fine. If I have to pick between you being  _ functional _ enough to shoot a gun or this, I pick this. Please.” Cas made a choked-off cry and turned around, leaning heavily on the table behind him.

“Fine, Dean. Fine. I love you, is that what you want to hear? I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I have known and loved your every atom and I believe you have known mine. I was eons old and in months,  _ months, _ my entire experience of the universe changed for love of you. I tore down the world for you,  _ with _ you, and I would do it again. I would rather have a year of death and pain and no toilet paper than an eternity of anything if that year only had you. I have held it together, such as I have, for you. And the only fucking part of it that I regret is that I did not learn sooner. The only thing I would change if I had to do it all again is that I would have kissed you before I even knew how to speak to you without making you bleed. Is that serious enough for you? I have already given you everything I can. Foolish of me to think that I would refuse you now.” 

The room felt airless, any sense of calm that Dean had felt evaporating as Cas spoke. Cas’s eyes had not left Dean’s for the entire speech, blazing even as his face crumpled around them and his shoulders started to shake. Dean crossed the room in trembling strides but stopped before they were close enough to touch, instead holding his hand out like an offering. 

“I love you too, Cas.” A strained whisper, then a shaky half-laugh. “God, you’re better at this than I am. I don’t have the words like you do. I’m sorry. I love you and I’m sorry and all I want is for us to take a couple hours and just… do that. Can we do that? Please.” 

Cas’s face broke around the fault lines of his partly open mouth, his shuddering breath. He closed his eyes, losing their blue wrath not the balm Dean thought it would be, but they opened again as he nodded. Dean reached out, desperate not to be apart anymore, but Cas held up his hand to stop him. 

“I want you to know that this is the worst thing you could have done,” he said quietly, voice cracking and wrecked. “But also that I am immensely grateful for it. Or I will be, when I’m not--” He cut himself off, throwing his outstretched hand up. “Fuck it, you already know. Touch me, now, please.”

Dean did not have to be told twice. He surged forward, pressing Cas into the edge of the table and then lifting him up onto it. Cas’s legs wrapped around him like a reflex, something unstoppable, and crushed their hips together as Dean’s hands came to his hair. Cas’s fingertips bit into Dean’s biceps, bruising on one side, pressing hard into scar tissue on the other. Their mouths were rough and sharp with teeth, messy with tongue. 

“I’m going to make you feel everything you just said to me,” Dean gasped, his lips burning as they scraped over Cas’s unshaven cheek and to his ear, the angle of his jaw. “Everything you said-- me too, Cas. I don’t know how to say it back except like this.” Cas laughed, clutching at the back of Dean’s head. 

“This will do just fine,” he moaned, throwing his head back to make way for Dean’s roaming mouth, tearing himself away long enough to pull off his shirt. Dean went instantly for his collarbone, his nipple, not stopping until Cas wore a string of bright red marks across his chest. He let the sounds that wrung from Cas fill his mind, pushing out all thoughts of the devil and his double and the fucked-up world, wondering if, at the end, he would be able to remember them just like this. 

“Dean,” Cas groaned, grabbing at Dean’s ass for leverage to roll their hips together. Dean made an answering sound incoherently into Cas’s shoulder, then lifted him bodily, carrying him back to the bed. They broke apart for long enough to get rid of the rest of their clothes. Cas turned around to dig in the bedside drawer for lube and Dean wrapped himself around him from behind, pressing his face into Cas’s back, feeling his erection against his skin. 

“Mmm,” Cas sighed, pushing back into Dean, bottle of lube almost forgotten in one hand. He stepped backward, knocking Dean’s knees against the bed so that they fell together. Dean cried out at the pressure, one hand pulling Cas in even further by the hip and another hand at his throat, incongruously light and gentle as it guided Cas to let his head fall back against Dean’s shoulder. 

“God, Dean, if you don’t get inside me I’ll--  _ oh-- _ ” Whatever Cas was going to threaten was lost as Dean licked his palm and stroked him twice.

“Stand up, sweetheart, give me a minute,” Dean murmured, staying as close as he could while he pressed slick fingers into Cas, opening him as fast as he could without being rough. They’d had enough of roughness; this, he could do with care. Struck suddenly by that thought, he nudged Cas forward enough to go to his knees behind him, then spread his cheeks and go in with his mouth. 

Cas had done this for him before a few times, though usually with a cut condom between them, but Dean thought briefly that if there was any time to learn how to eat ass it might as well be the last fuck of his life. He called to mind every time he’d done this with a cunt and just went for it, encouraged by the way Cas’s legs went noticeably weak and the way he keened at the touch of Dean’s tongue. Somehow in a wordless sound he managed to convey surprise and awe and overwhelming arousal, tipping forward to grab the bedside table for support. Dean took advantage of the shifted position to pay some attention to Cas’s balls, wringing more sounds from him, before spitting on the ground and returning to fingers. 

“Now, Dean,” Cas growled, shoving himself back on Dean’s three fingers with insistent force, and Dean stood to oblige. It had been a long time since he’d been inside Cas, but the sensation was instantly familiar, the tight ring of pressure leading to the safe, all-encompassing heat. Forehead pressed to Cas’s shoulder, he let out half a sob, thrusting in small, rhythmic motions as he worked his way inside. 

Cas pushed him back onto the bed, shoving himself abruptly down on Dean to the hilt, and ground down where he sat. Dean almost yelled, hands coming up to hold onto Cas’s chest. 

“Lie back, Dean,” Cas said. Something-- the closeness, the arousal, all of the above-- had smoothed his voice from the wrecked shell it had been earlier to something softer, a tone Dean wasn’t sure he had ever heard from him. If he ever had, it had certainly been years. It was loving, warm, still deep and forceful in a way no other human being really spoke but deeply mortal in its tremors and breaks. Dean obeyed, and they had an undignified moment of shuffling before Cas could prop his knees on the bed and ride Dean properly. He rose and fell in long strokes, the sudden swap in control setting Dean’s head spinning as he tried and failed to have any impact on the tempo from below. 

Cas’s hands were running over Dean’s thighs as he rode. His weight was all in his legs and knees, leaving his hands free to be light and soft as he touched Dean, a companion to his slow, reassuring voice. 

“Shh, let me do this for you. Thank you, I never could have started this but Dean, if we hadn’t had this before the end, can you imagine? The pointlessness would have killed me before the devil-- I love you so much, honey, let me take it from here.” 

The way he spoke now, his old angelic depth and cadence but with an assurance in his interactions that he’d never really had back then, the way his timbre softened into newly learned speech patterns and loving words-- Dean hadn’t taken enough time to appreciate it before now. Cas kept it up until it all blurred together into one overwhelming sensation: the constant sound of his voice, the too-soft touch of his hands, the too-tight grip of his body. Dean fell apart as he came, unable to do anything but clutch at Cas’s hips and let the orgasm roll through him. He could barely keep track of Cas’s movements as Cas guided Dean out of him, immediately replacing the sensation on his softening cock with fingers inside him. 

“Your turn,” Cas said, a slight smile and a hint of promise, as Dean threw back his head and laughed weakly. “Or is it my turn?” 

“Who ca--  _ aaaaah. _ ” The sensation of fullness and even the occasional overstimulating hit to his prostate weren’t enough to overcome the limits of biology and make Dean hard again, but he felt like he might as well have come again when Cas did. It didn’t take long, just five or six powerful thrusts before Dean was full and slick inside and Cas was flopping down on the bed beside him, breathing hard. 

“I know that God has abandoned us in the most literal sense,” Cas said, deadpan and breathy, “but I have no other word for what we’ve just done than holy.” 

“I hate when you say weird shit like that,” Dean gasped, sparking a laugh from Cas.

“You don’t. You love it.” Cas rolled over and propped himself on Dean’s chest, meeting his eyes again with his intense stare. They could have been any place, any time across the years they’d known each other, when all Dean looked at was his eyes. “You told me.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said helplessly, unable to deflect even as long-ingrained instinct told him to. Cas closed the distance between them for a possessive kiss, his hands curling against Dean’s chest. They did not break apart for a long time. 

Finally, Cas sat back, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. 

“I can’t sleep here with you,” he said, his voice dragged-out and reluctant. “I won’t let either of us leave tomorrow, if I do. I’m going to leave now, and I’m going to drink an astounding amount of absinthe, and in the morning we cannot do this again. This was it, Dean. Thank you.” Before Dean could process his meaning, Cas was standing up, scrubbing at himself with a towel that had been left carelessly on the bedpost and collecting his clothes from the floor. 

“Wait, Cas-” Dean scrambled to sit up.

“No, Dean. I mean it. Stay there. I’m leaving.” He dressed haphazardly, dug around in the cabinet for a bottle. 

“This is your cabin!” 

“Which means yours is empty. If you’ve meant anything you’ve said tonight, do not follow me.” He took a long swig from the bottle, face screwing up at the taste, and took it and the ashtray with him as he left, slamming the door behind him. He had not looked at Dean once since standing up. 

  
Dean could have gone after him. His past self absolutely would have; he remembered with a pang Cas’s laughter and his voice-- _what?_ _I like past you_ , but he was who he was now and he could see the selfishness in it. Cas was right, and they had long ago given up trying to protect each other over the world. Cas and Dean, the Dean that he was now and the Cas who would follow him, had just one more thing to do. No options, no outs, no redos. Whoever came after them, with any luck, would be free to love as selfishly as they wanted. 


End file.
